I am a full-level celestial master, you let me enter the strange talk of rules?

If other chosen ones reach this stage and notice this "hint," they should say goodbye to the rat doctor, ask how to get into the dean's office, and go get it themselves.

Then they tried to find a way to avoid the possibility of the dean appearing, which was the "bear" mentioned in the front desk registration.

There are specific ways to do it.

I remember there were many rooms on the third to sixth floors, and there were strange phenomena and noises inside.

Now that we know the dean might be "Bear," we can safely enter the dean's office by finding props or things that bears dislike on other floors to avoid their presence.

This requires a very long process. There are countless dangers and unknowns in these layers. The chosen one needs to explore each layer and check each room one by one in order to find that key item.

Otherwise, with the Chosen Ones' current items, such as the so-called holy sword and armor, can they really deal with the bear?

Zhang Yangqing knew in his heart that the origin of that thing was related to the Savior, and the Savior himself was 'perhaps' related to this Dean.

Whether the holy sword and armor can deal with the bear is hard to say.

If the chosen one goes to the dean's office unprepared, something bad will definitely happen.

But Zhang Yangqing was different. Even if he went "rashly," the audience outside the big screen and his two henchmen all thought that the dean would be the one to get into trouble.

This is not blind confidence, but the confidence that comes from strength.

The three followed the rat doctor toward the dean's office.

The corridor on the seventh floor was even more secluded than before, with fewer and fewer doors on both sides and wider and wider walls.

The overhead lights no longer flickered, but became a constant, deathly white light, making everyone's face look as white as paper.

After walking for about five minutes, the mouse doctor stopped in front of a black door.

There was no nameplate or handle on the door, only a circular groove with a dark red stone embedded in it, resembling a closed eye.

The mouse doctor reached out and pressed the stone.

The door slid open silently, revealing a huge office.

The office's decor is completely different from the outside.

The floor was covered with a dark red carpet that was soft and slippery underfoot, making no sound.

Several paintings hung on the wall, depicting various strange creatures.

But those creatures all had blood-red eyes, and no matter which angle you looked at them from, they seemed to be staring at you.

In the corner stood several tall bookshelves, densely packed with books and documents.

A huge desk stood in the center of the room, piled with various documents and miscellaneous items, as well as a picture frame containing a yellowed photograph of two figures, but their faces were not clearly visible.

The mouse doctor skillfully walked behind the desk, opened the drawer, and began rummaging through it.

His movements were quick and skillful, as if he did this kind of thing often.

He rummaged through the drawers for a while and took out a palm-sized black box from the bottom drawer. The box had intricate patterns engraved on its surface and emitted a faint fluorescence.

He held the box in both hands, about to hand it to Zhang Yangqing.

A series of heavy footsteps came from behind.

"Boom."

The footsteps weren't heavy, but each step felt like it was stomping on people's hearts, squeezing them hard, then releasing them, then squeezing them again.

The woman with the almond-shaped eyes felt her heart skip a beat, as if something had gripped it.

The high-earner's face turned deathly pale, his legs went weak, and he almost knelt on the ground.

The footsteps carried an invisible sense of oppression, a pressure from a higher dimension. It wasn't a crushing force in terms of strength, but rather a more fundamental, ancient power that made one tremble from the depths of their soul.

The mouse doctor's hand froze in mid-air, his expression shifting from smugness to surprise, then to fear. His lips trembled, his teeth chattered, and the box slipped from his hand.

His legs began to tremble, like withered leaves in the wind, and then he knelt down with a thud, his forehead pressed against the carpet, his whole body curled up into a ball.

"Dean! Dean!"

His voice sounded like it was being squeezed out of his throat, thin and sharp, like a mouse whose tail had been stepped on.

The beautiful woman with peach blossom eyes suddenly contracted her pupils. Her hand pressed on the hilt of the holy sword, her fingers tightening, but she did not pull it out.

Her breathing became rapid, her heart pounded like a drum, and fine beads of sweat appeared on her forehead.

She could feel the oppressive aura, and she could sense how terrifying the approaching presence was.

She even began to doubt whether her holy sword could kill this guy.

The high-earning professional was speechless, trembling all over like a frightened rabbit.

Only Zhang Yangqing remained the same.

He stood there, hands in his pockets, expression indifferent, as if waiting for a friend who wasn't always punctual.

He even bent down, caught the fallen black box from the rat doctor's hand, weighed it in his hand, and then put it in his pocket.

"Honestly, what's with the panic?" Zhang Yangqing glanced at the rat doctor huddled on the ground, his tone casual.

The feeling was as if the person standing behind you wasn't the most terrifying being here, but rather a dispensable maggot.

The footsteps stopped.

A figure walked in through the door.

Everyone assumed that the dean, codenamed "Bear" or whose real identity was Bear, must be a burly man with broad shoulders and a strong build.

He should be at least 1.9 meters tall, with a muscular build, a fierce face, and a menacing gaze; he could stop a child from crying just by standing there.

But the woman who walked in was petite.

She was wearing a white dress, the hem of which just reached her knees, revealing a section of her slender calves.

Her hair was black, tied into two pigtails that hung down on either side of her shoulders, with the ends slightly curled.

Her face was small with delicate features, fair skin, light pink lips, and black eyes with large pupils, like two black grapes.

She was only a little over 1.5 meters tall, and standing there, she looked like a girl who hadn't even reached adulthood.

But that sense of oppression emanated from this petite body.

That feeling was as if it came from eternity ago, ancient and heavy, as if it carried the vicissitudes of countless years, yet compressed into a small body.

The dean tilted his head, glanced at the kneeling rat doctor, and smiled sweetly.

Her voice was sweet and coquettish, like a spoiled little girl: "Little Mouse, you're still so disobedient. Looks like I'll have to take you apart and put you back together."

The mouse doctor trembled all over, his forehead hitting the carpet repeatedly, his voice trembling as he cried out, "Director! Director, I was wrong! I'll never do it again! Please forgive me this time!"

The dean didn't look at him; his gaze shifted away from him and swept over everyone present.

She glanced at the high-earning man, who shrank even further.

She glanced at the beautiful woman with peach blossom eyes, her gaze lingering on her for a moment before settling on the holy sword in her hand.

The dean's eyes narrowed slightly.

Her voice was still as sweet and delicate as ever, but with a hint of something indescribable: "Oh, that familiar scent." (End of Chapter)